Nellie is near and dear to my heart.  If there were any possible way for me to keep her, I would do so in a heartbeat.  Also true of Lilly and Sally, but especially true for Nellie.  Let me explain:

Nellie has lived through something.  All three have, no doubt of that.  But especially Nellie.  Lilly and Sally were relatively easy to catch on the day they arrived…desperate for somewhere to rest and to warm.  But Nellie was a different story.  I am pretty sure she would have chosen to freeze to death rather than trust us, were it not for the pull of her two stray-mates safe and warm in my garage.  When we finally cornered her, she melted into the pose of a speckled Sphinx, and then she froze in place.  Her tail couldn’t tuck any tighter.  There was no give when I lifted her scarred and bony body off the ground.  There was also no fight.  My heart ached.  We will never know what her experiences were before she came to us, but it seems clear that whatever they were, they taught her not to trust. 

Nellie’s first weeks with us were a mixture of semi-relief and apprehension at a distance.  Her tail never relaxed, it was just sometimes a little less tucked than others.  The slightest noise hit her nervous system like an exploding atomic bomb.  She would come up for affection only when the coast was totally clear of any possible danger or pressure, and only then when the receiving human was at her level or lower.  She would not eat unless she was left completely alone in a room with her dog dish, and she would scurry away with an accentuated tail tuck from any human approaching her with food in hand.  It was several weeks before she would take a treat out of a human hand.  Even then it required the human to be seated on the ground, hand stretched backward around the corner of a wall, gaze fixed in the opposite direction.

Coming in and out of doors was a really hard thing for a long time.  At the very beginning, none of them wanted to go back outside once they got to the inside.  Their paws were sore.  It was cold outside.  There was snow on the ground.  I shoveled paths through the snowbanks down to the grass and carried them out, one by one, to go potty.  This went on for a few weeks.  And then we got lucky with a warm streak.  The snow melted, their paws healed, and going outside became a lot easier.  Then, for Nellie, the issue became coming back inside:  For the remainder of January, all of February and most of March, she just really struggled to walk into the house through a wide-open door.  Once she got inside she was okay, but actually passing through the doorway was another story.  In an effort to entice her, I would span the threshold with a trail of cheesy meatloaf dog treats, then lay down on the ground on my belly on the indoor side of the equation with a handful of the same.  And still she wouldn’t come.  On occasion, I would get a paw or two across the threshold before she would lurch back out into the freezing cold.  It seemed she preferred the biting thrusts of the frigid wind to the threshold of my door.  Once in a blue moon she would manage to slink all the way in and then quickly dart around the corner to safety.  But most of the time it ended with her either being carried in or getting a very gentle scoot assist.  I honestly don’t know exactly when it shifted, but little by little, the scoot assists became less and less.  And then one day, it finally clicked, and it was like there had never been a problem.  Presently, she struts across the threshold like she’s been doing it for a thousand years ♥️

Most of Nellie’s time with us has been some version of the threshold of my door – taking treats, walking on a leash, eating from a dog bowl, accepting praise and attention, greeting new people, acclimating to the vacuum cleaner or to people walking by carrying pretty much anything.  Slowly but slowly, she has gained confidence, found it in her to open up to us a little more each passing day.  She now sleeps through clanging in the kitchen.  She watches closely when someone walks by carrying something, but she no longer cowers and runs away.  Her tail still tucks more easily than the other two, but it is no longer a permanent condition.  And the best part is, she has started to come to us when something out there in the world seems scary.  She is learning to trust again, and it is an amazing thing to witness.

Interestingly, perhaps as an offshoot of Nellie’s blossoming confidence vs coincident with the warming weather, we noticed an obsessive aspect of her personality take hold over the past month or so.  It started out with her not wanting to come inside after the “before bedtime” potty session.  But it wasn’t the usual issue with the threshold of the door.  In fact, we couldn’t even get her to the door.  She was too busy zooming back and forth around the yard, nose to ground, tracking moles (we think).  Once inside, she would pace and pace and pace and pace, whine at the door, and then pace and pace and pace some more.  And then the following morning, long before first light, it would start all over again.  If left unchecked, she would track moles for hours at a time, not stopping to rest, eat or drink.  With the anxiety medication and some help taking breaks, she has made wonderful progress in a very short period.  She still enjoys her sniffing sessions, but in just a few weeks time she was really able to lean into the notion of stopping and resting on her own, and it’s now been a few weeks since she’s required any of the medication.  She is still the first one up in the morning, ready to go.  But she now naps with the others in the afternoons (in fact, that’s what she’s doing right now), takes plenty of breaks throughout the day all on her own, and sleeps well at night.  It’s like her system just needed a reset.  We still watch her closely, but so far she seems to be maintaining her reset condition very nicely. 

Watching Nellie’s personality blossom has been one of the great privileges of my life.  I am also shy, happy to spend time alone, and obsessive about certain things in our big, crazy world. This beautiful girl will never know how deeply her little doggy soul has touched mine.  Nor will she ever know the depths of my gratitude toward her. 

What I have learned from her is that she is wounded but not broken, and I bow to her courage. She has a favorite ball.  It’s orange and a bit bouncy.  I of course have no idea if she had ever had the opportunity to play with toys before, but the first time we brought them out, it seemed to me like she was surprised to find out that there was such a thing as balls.  Like she’d won the lottery that she didn’t even know existed.  And she LOVES to hike in the woods.  LOVES, LOVES, LOVES, LOVES it!  I think it is safe to say that this is her favorite thing to do.  She did not know what a leash was when she came to us.  The first time I attached it to her collar, she froze in place.  She literally did not know what on earth she was supposed to do. Now she is like every other dog I’ve ever known in my life.  When she sees her leash, her eyes light up, her paws do a little tap dance and her wagging tail broadcasts loud and clear: “I’m ready to go!” In fact, because she is also really smart, she’s figured out all kinds of ways to let us know when she is ready to go for a walk 🧡.  And of course she has incredible stamina.  If you like to go on long and/or challenging hikes, she is 100% your girl…at the risk of ultra-anthropomorphizing while simultaneously human stereotyping, this is your 1000% through and through granola girl!  Not only breathtakingly athletic and strong, but also deeply beautiful.  Her coat is mostly that deep rich umber color, less speckling, more majesty.  A delicate fringe lines her floppy silken ears, and her dark brown eyes see right into your soul.  She doesn’t need frills.  She doesn’t need coddling.  She needs fresh air, wholesome food, a wooded path, some interesting smells and a human to love.  And that’s about it 🧡

At this point, if you are thinking to yourself that this girl belongs to this girl, I can understand the thought process.  She has touched me deeply, and by now I don’t just like her, I truly love her.  It wasn’t hyperbole when I stated I would give anything to keep her.  I would.  But what I continue to lean into is my belief in the wisdom of the universe.  If I did not have to travel extensively for my work, I wouldn’t be searching for homes for these girls.  But the reality is that I do have to travel.  And while I could always quit my job, the result would be that I wouldn’t have a home at all. In the end, the same answer keeps coming up: I must accept that Nellie is only meant to be with me for a little while.  I can keep doing what I am doing for a little while.  And that will be enough.  Because there is someone very special out there meant just for her.  Maybe that someone is you 🤍🧡🤎